Rakshasa
by franscats
Summary: Jim and Blair search the streets of Cascade for a unique killer.


Rakshasa

By Franscats

Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Paramount and Pet Fly Productions who own the rights to (fandom and said characters), I do not. No money has exchanged. No harm, slander, defamation of character or company intended.

The city of Cascade was in an uproar. When the body of a young drug user was found in a secluded part of Washington Park, more than half devoured by some animal or animals, the people shook their heads in dismay but pretty much ignored it, after all, such was the life of a fallen soul. And no one questioned how long the body had been exposed to the elements; oddly enough it was also not in the report released by the police. When a second body (that of a prostitute) was found two days later in an alley not far from the park people started talking and complaining about whatever wild animals were running amok, not that any had been spotted. Many speculated that something might have escaped from the Cascade Zoo but officials were very quick to state that all their animals were accounted for. When an elderly couple was found two days later, in much the same condition, nervousness turned to real fear. People started to scream that the police needed to do something about the problem before more bodies were found. Animal control, the department initially charged with the investigation, having found no wild animals and not having the man power to patrol the entire region around the 900 acre park that bordered the affluent Cascade waterfront on one side, the less savory and mostly deserted warehouse area on a second side, and downtown Cascade with its small stores and diverse immigrant community on the third side, had turned to the police for help.

Police Officers, equipped with rifles and nets were stationed in and around the park at night but still no animals were found. And yet, the killings were mounting. A fifth victim, this time a poor immigrant worker, turned up just three days later, his body (or what was left of it) hidden behind a dumpster two blocks from Washington Park's downtown area.

With an icy fear trickling down their backs, city officials began to wonder what was stalking the streets of Cascade at night as the newspaper dubbed the killer "The Wild Stalker."

When a sixth victim was found just three days later, the mayor, under extreme pressure to do something, called Simon Banks, Captain of Major Crimes, asking that his lead team be put on the case. Jim Ellison, the head of said team, was known for being able to "find things" others didn't. No one questioned what kind of gift it was, some thinking it might be a psychic one though Jim never admitted it. But he got results, especially when he had his unofficial partner with him. So, despite his three month observer's pass having expired 21 months before, somehow Blair Sandburg was still allowed to travel and work with the detective and was considered part of the Major Crimes team.

It was Thursday afternoon when Simon opened the door to his office and seeing Jim working out in the bullpen called him into his office. "Jim where's Sandburg?" he asked solemnly as Jim walked in.

"He's got a class today," Jim had answered as Simon frowned before closing the blinds.

"Will he be coming here after?"

"I'm not sure, why?"

Simon sighed. "I've got a case for you and Sandburg and it might be just up the kid's alley." He paused and pulled off his glasses rubbing his nose before reaching down and handing Jim a report. "This is not the official report and is not being seen by anyone beside you, Sandburg, Dan Wolf, and the Commissioner and his Deputy. It can't even leave this office." Jim had the distinct impression as he took the folder from Simon's outstretched hand, that he was taking something Simon considered nasty. He suspected Simon handing over a cobra would have been more comfortable and warning bells started going off in his head.

"The Wild Stalker?" Jim questioned, looking at the first page of the report.

Simon nodded biting down on his unlit cigar, a sure sign that this case was upsetting him. "Read the autopsy report and then you'll understand why we need you and Sandburg on this case. Hell, the Commissioner asked for you."

Jim nodded and sat down looking over the file as Simon put a cup of coffee down in front of him before stepping out of the office. Dan Wolf, the Medical Examiner, had written, "The radius of the bite marks were not those of any canine or feline on record. They were similar to those of a shark with a slightly smaller jaw radius. The accompanying fur, found on each victim, and claw marks across the vivisected abdomens suggested some bearlike creature but did not match any animal listed in the database. Its DNA had yet to be broken down but appeared to belong to some species not on record…"

Jim read through the report twice, sitting and staring at it before leaning over Simon's desk and picking up the phone. Dialing Rainier, he waited till he heard a friendly voice on the phone. "Hello, this is Blair Sandburg, can I help you?" the voice said cheerfully.

"Hey Sandburg," Jim greeted trying to keep his voice neutral despite the unease he was feeling looking at the report, "I've got a case I'd like you to take a look at."

"A case?" Blair answered, and Jim could hear two people talking in the background and guessed the teaching assistant had students actually taking advantages of his office hours. "Sure, ah, what kind of case?"

"I'll explain when you're here. When can you come in?"

"My office hours end in an hour so I can be there in an hour and half."

"See you then Chief." Jim hung up and turned back to the report, looking it over one last time before placing it back down on Simon's desk and heading down to see Dan Wolf.

The Chief Medical Examiner's personal office was little more than a closet with a small metal desk, a computer, copy machine and printer. Much like Simon Banks' office, it branched off from the main room where the other medical examiners did their own paperwork. Walking through the outer office, Jim took a quick look around. It wasn't often he found himself at the coroner's door. Usually, he found Dan down in autopsy and Jim noted just how deserted the outer office was, five desks with no one behind them. He wondered if the room was empty because the MEs were all somewhere else doing autopsies. It wasn't a pleasant thought, but nothing about this visit was pleasant as Jim headed over to Dan Wolfs' door and knocked before entering.

Dan sat behind his desk looking at his computer thoughtfully. Of Native American descent, Dan proudly proclaimed his heritage with his dark ponytailed hair and reddish brown complexion. Looking up at Jim in the door, he motioned Jim in and indicated a seat across from him. "I've been expecting you since the report on the Wild Stalker landed on Banks' desk."

Jim nodded and ran a quick hand across his forehead to ease tension from a slowly building headache. "Want to tell me what the report doesn't say?"

Dan Wolf sighed and looked down shaking his head, knowing this conversation was going to go to places he didn't really want to travel to. Getting up he walked over to the door, looking out to make sure no one was near before closing it, and coming back to sit down and watch Jim thoughtfully. "Did you know there are a lot of legends about cannibalistic demons that devoured humans, almost every culture has one?"

"Dan," Jim started disbelief crossing his features as he prepared to protest but he was stopped when Dan Wolf raised a hand.

"Among my people such a creature was called a Wendigo. But other cultures told tales of such creatures hunting and eating humans." He paused, his eyes traveling over Jim thoughtfully. "As a guardian you should know there are things that are beyond our understanding."

"What?" Jim froze, hoping Dan meant a guardian in the police sense but the medical examiner's next words clearly belied that hope.

"My people have had guardians in the past. Our legends tell of them using their senses to guard against evil. A guardian with enhanced senses did more than find food and human enemies. They guarded against demons." His eyes moved over Jim's face. "I've known what you are from the time your senses came to life Jim. You are a guardian and Blair Sandburg is your companion. It is both of your jobs to guard the tribe."

"Look Dan," Jim cut in. "I don't know what you think you know-," but Jim didn't get to finish.

"In my culture," Dan interrupted, "the tribe protects the guardian and companion so they can do what is necessary to protect the tribe. It is my job and my honor to protect what you are. I will not betray that."

Jim took a deep breath watching the examiner. He thought about denying that he was a guardian, but looking into Dan's face he could see certainty and realized he couldn't change Dan's mind with a simple denial. Jim didn't call himself a guardian; Blair had used the term sentinel, a man with five enhanced senses. Those senses helped him do his job by allowing him to see, hear, taste, touch and smell things that others could not. "A guardian, a sentinel, it's the same thing," Jim decided before glancing over at Dan Wolf. "How did you find out?" he whispered at last, wondering if he had been too careless in using his senses.

Dan shrugged. "I am not a shaman but I come from a line that had shamans. Their blood runs through my veins and I can recognize what you are even if I cannot assist you. And I tell you there is a demon stalking the streets of Cascade."

Jim's cornflower blue eyes stared into Dan's dark ones challenging the ME's conclusions. "There's a big difference between enhanced senses and demonic cannibals."

"You've read my report. It mentions an unknown creature. I did not state this in the report, but I recognize the marks of a demon. You have to recognize this as well if you want to stop the deaths."

"Not that I am buying into this, but for arguments sake, how do I stop a demon?"

Dan Wolf looked off for a moment thoughtfully. "You must find out what kind of demon it is. Go back to the first killing with Blair, he has shaman blood within him, he will see what legend spawned the demon. In the legend there will be ways of stopping it. Then you must hunt it."

"No one has seen it," Jim answered, still not accepting that this was anything but flesh and blood.

"You are a guardian; you can see what others cannot and the shaman will know how to kill it," Dan repeated.

Jim stood to leave and Dan standing grabbed his arm. "Keep Blair close to your side. First and foremost the demon will want to remove the guardian and companion. It will know you are both a danger to its existence, alone you are both in danger, together you stand a chance of stopping this thing." Jim looked over at Dan and nodded, his jaw set but at that last comment a frisson of fear took root in his stomach.

...

Office hours had finally ended and Blair Sandburg grabbed his ever present backpack tossing it over one shoulder as he locked his office door and headed out across the quad. Looking up into the late afternoon sun filtering through the trees, he wondered what type of case Jim needed help with and hoped it wasn't something too gruesome. Sometimes he still had problems when he thought of Lash.

Reaching the Volvo, he pulled out his keys, jingling them around as he found the door and engine keys and getting in the car, turned the engine over, willing it to start on the first try. It didn't. By the third try, he rested his head on the steering wheel and gave a sigh of defeat before digging through his bag for his phone and dialing Jim.

"Ellison," Jim answered his private line and Blair wondered, not for the first time, why Jim answered his cell, house and private line so succinctly. Wouldn't he expect that whoever was calling would know him?

"Hey Jim, office hours are out but I'm going to be a little late getting to the station. My car won't start so I'll have to catch a lift or a bus."

"You need to get rid of that hunk of junk," Jim answered.

"It's a classic, man," Blair answered by rote, sure Jim was mouthing the words with him. This particular conversation was repeated so often it was almost a comic routine with them.

"It's a classic piece of junk," Jim countered. "Don't bother trying to catch a ride or taking the bus, I'll pick you up."

"It's no problem; I can be there in an hour."

There was a pause on the other end of the line and then Jim stated, a bit more aggressively, "No, I'll come and get you. Just stay in your office." Another pause and then a bit more cautiously, "Chief, lock yourself in, okay?"

"Jim what's going on?" Blair answered nervously. Something was wrong and suddenly he felt exposed standing out in the open quad, as if hostile eyes might be on him.

"You're safe Blair but stay put until I get there and then I'll try and explain."

Blair, noting the phrase "try to explain," nodded as he answered, "Sure," trying to sound a lot calmer than he was as he hung up and gathered his things. Turning, he consciously slowed his walk and casually strolled back to Hargrove Hall and down to the basement where he had his office. Watching the hall, his eyes darting back and forth nervously as he pushed back his hair, he looked for anyone who didn't belong before entering his office and leaning against the door as he locked it. Taking a shaky breath, he moved over to a seat at his desk before glancing past his piles of files at the large window behind his desk. Nervously, he picked up a solid paperweight before moving to a seat in the corner of the room that gave a view of the room and kept his back to the wall.

Deep down Blair knew he was being overly cautious, Jim would be here already or would have sent a patrol to keep an eye on him if something was dangerously wrong, but he couldn't shake a feeling of imminent danger, and he realized an uneasy feeling had been building all day. He was more than a little relieved when twenty minutes later there was a knock at the door and Jim called, "Sandburg, open the door."

Blair looked at the paperweight in his hand feeling foolish as he put it down on a shelf behind him and walked over to the door. "Coming Jim," he answered and unlocked the door, opening it to reveal the detective.

"Hi Chief," Jim stepped into the office and took a quick look around and Blair was sure he was using all his senses.

"What's going on Jim?" he asked quietly, his voice edgy with concern and watched the detective glance at him uncomfortably.

"Simon's got a case for us and," he paused. "I think you need to come into the PD and read the coroner's report and then talk to Dan."

"The coroner's report?" Blair questioned quietly, and Jim nodded.

"It's not a normal case," he admitted with a sigh, his eyes roaming the office before finally settling back on Blair, resignation apparent in the hard set of his face. "It makes me feel like we've part of the X files."

Blair pushed back his hair, unconsciously looking for something to tie it back with as he nodded. "A cult thing?" he asked.

"The Wild Stalker case," Jim admitted as he led Blair to the door.

Blair paused. "How does that remind you of the X files?"

"Let's go. I'll explain what I can on the way but for most of it, you're just going to have to read the report and talk to Dan Wolf."

...

After leaving the university, Jim had led Blair into Simon's office and sat him down with the coroner's report. Jim could tell that Blair had first scanned over it and then read it through before looking up at the detective. Jim had forewarned Blair that there was some weird mystical stuff related to the case, but seeing the empirical evidence of it had still shocked Blair and he was more open to such things than Jim. The pair had then gone down to talk with Dan Wolf who repeated for Blair much of what he had said to Jim, acknowledging that he knew Jim was a sentinel and Blair, a shaman and Jim's guide. He had again talked about demons before giving Blair advice.

"You must find out which demon is stalking Cascade," he announced looking over Blair critically. "You must look for the signs so you can find a way to stop it."

"What signs? How do I do this?"

"Search the demon's hunting grounds." Dan Wolf started to turn away but then turned back and looked over Blair, his dark eyes stern. "You can do this, I cannot. You have the power of a shaman within you and you are a companion to a guardian. Put trust in yourself, Blair Sandburg. You will find the signs and the guardian will hunt and fight the demon."

After that rather uncomfortable statement the pair had gone back to the bullpen where Jim began reviewing all the information on the recent killings. While Jim did this, Blair continued to process the information all too aware of how uncomfortable Jim was with the information and investigation. But still, if Dan Wolf was right, they had to find what kind of demon was stalking the street, if they wanted to neutralize it.

"Jim where was the first body found?" Blair asked, and Jim who had been organizing the data, looked up.

"Washington Memorial Park, near the downtown entrance."

"I have a theory," Blair said sentinel soft and watched his partner raise an eyebrow acknowledging he had heard the barely whispered statement. "Demons come in all shapes and sizes depending on the culture that spawned them. We need to investigate which culture is most prevalent in the area where the demon first appeared. That could tell us what kind of demon it is and how to fight it."

Jim nodded with some resignation. "As plans go, it's as good as any other I've heard," he said, but Blair could hear the discomfort in the sentinel's voice as the two prepared to head out. "We can get a look at the area and then talk to Community Affairs. They'll know the community on that side of the park."

...

The downtown side of Washington Memorial Park was near a culturally diverse neighborhood with small, mostly well-tended, apartments. To Jim's sensitive nose, it smelled of curry and other Eastern spices, and he made a conscious effort to keep his sense of smell down so as not to be overwhelmed by the exotic scents as he looked around the neighborhood.

The area was truly multicultural with a recent influx of both Asians and Polynesians. Looking around speculatively, Blair deliberately went into the newer looking shops, buying unusual spices and chatting with the owners.

Jim let Blair take the lead on this. He was after all an anthropologist, cultures his specialty, and so he followed his partner from store to store. There were two stores that Jim couldn't enter, repeatedly sneezing on the doorsteps, the strong scents affecting his senses and Blair waved him out before going in.

An hour and a half after starting the tour of the area, Jim and Blair walked back to the truck, Blair hopping in beside his partner and handing Jim a bottle of water to clear the spicy scents from his lungs. "I'm sure Community Affairs will say the newest population is Indian. While you confirm that, I'll do some research on Indian demons. From what I can recall, some of them are very nasty man eaters."

"No three wishes and soul stealing?" Jim asked.

"No, Man. Those are sanitized Western demons. These are monsters."

Jim didn't comment on that but drove back to the station where he put in a call to the Community Liaison office as Blair, sitting at Jim's computer, logged into Rainier. Forty minutes later, a much subdued Blair, turned off the computer.

"Got something Chief?" Jim asked, and Blair nodded biting his lower lip as he pushed back his hair, a habit Jim knew indicated nervousness. Jim waited, his own sense of unease growing, as Blair glanced around before moving closer.

"Maybe we should move somewhere a bit more private?" he suggested softly.

Jim, again glanced around, aware that Simon had sent the other detectives out and left them to do whatever they needed to do while keeping everyone else out of their hair. No one left in the bullpen looked particularly interested in what they were doing, but deciding Blair was right he lifted his folder and led Blair out of the bullpen, entering conference room two and locking the door behind them. Putting down the file and taking a seat at the table, Jim watched as Blair dropped his back pack on the floor before unfolding some papers and pointing a finger at a particularly gruesome picture.

Jim glanced at the picture. It looked like something out of a nightmare.

Though it had a parody of some human features, it still didn't give the impression of something human. It was a creature that stood on two legs, clothed in armor like a warrior, but it had rows of sharp, pointed teeth and cold staring eyes.

"A Rakshasa," Blair said softly, "is a warrior demon that devours its victims and it hunts at night." Pulling out another paper with a definition Blair continued reading, "According to Hindu mythology, 'a Rakshasa is a type of demon or goblin. Rakshasas have the power to change their shape at will and appear as animals, as monsters, or in the case of the female demons, as beautiful women. They are most powerful in the evening, particularly during the dark period of the new moon…' I bet the first death took place during a new moon."

"Chief, if something that looked like that were running around Cascade someone would see it."

"No, no one would," Blair shook his head. "The Rakshasa is a shape shifter. It reaches into its victim's mind and makes the victim see the person he or she most trusts. So the person doesn't know this thing is approaching and is completely vulnerable and unprepared for the attack."

"This is what you think we're looking for?" Jim asked, holding the paper, and trying to sound incredulous but Blair could hear the resignation in his voice.

"Yeah, I think so. There's been an influx of Indians, specifically from-" Jim held up a hand to stop the younger man.

"How do we stop it?" Jim cut to the chase.

"You shoot it in the heart with blessed arrows," Blair glanced at Jim's face as he answered. He could see the tension building as his jaw muscles twitched and knew Jim was having a hard time with this whole scenario.

"I left my bow in Peru," Jim answered with disgust.

"We're going to need a crossbow," Blair answered. "We can't go walking around Cascade with a bow and arrows."

"And the arrows, where do we get blessed arrows, Chief?"

Blair considered the question. "I'll handle the arrows. Can you get a crossbow before sundown?" Jim considered the question and then nodded.

"Okay, I'll meet you at the loft at 6:00 and we'll go on patrol."

Jim watched at Blair picked up his backpack and left the room. Part of him wanted to forget the arrows, take his gun, and hunt but some deeper part of him knew he had to do whatever was necessary to protect the tribe. With a resigned sigh, he left the conference room and, after briefly filling in a shell shocked Simon on what was going on, took a seat at his desk, picking up the phone. He had a crossbow to borrow.

...

At 5:40, Jim walked into the loft carrying a large knapsack and glanced at Blair who had four arrows laid out on the table. Walking over, he lifted one, examining it before glancing at Blair. "Are they blessed," he asked, not even believing he asked the question.

"They are," Blair confirmed. "I have a friend who is a Wiccan Priestess and she did the blessing."

"Wiccan," Jim repeatedly dryly, fingering the arrow, his sensitive fingers running over the wood speculatively. Jim had lived with the Chopec and had of necessity hunted with bows and arrows. So, his fingers automatically moved down the shaft making sure the arrow was strong enough.

Blair nodded, watching him, the guide aware of what Jim was doing. "It was kind of funny. She had me help her with the blessing. She said it would give the arrows extra power."

Jim's light blue eyes moved to his partner and friend. "This is crazy," he stated still holding the arrow between his fingers.

"But if it will do the job, we have to try it," Blair countered.

Setting his jaw, Jim nodded and opened the knapsack. He pulled out a crossbow and making sure the safety was locked, fitted the arrow before returning the crossbow to the knapsack. "I'd feel a lot better if this were the jungle," he muttered not really addressing Blair but the anthropologist nodded his understanding as they gathered their things and left for their patrol heading to where the first body had been found.

...

The people who owned and worked in the shops on the downtown side of Washington Memorial Park were rushing to their homes, hurrying past Blair and Jim, and staying in brightly lit areas as they headed away from the park area. Jim and Blair, watching the people pass, could feel the nervous energy and see the tension as those around them kept racing away from the area, most furtively glancing at the street around them as they rushed by. The area was quickly becoming deserted as sentinel and guide deliberately made their way towards less populated parts of the area where businesses were closing up for the night and streets darkening until only a few light posts shed light on the area. For the sentinel, the area was bright enough but Blair carried a police issue flashlight using it to sweep up and down streets and alleys.

Finally, except for a few all night grocery stores, the area was deserted. Once in a while, Jim and Blair would pass a car patrol and wave to the officers as they lingered near the spot the first body was found but nothing and no one seemed out of the ordinary. By 1:00 am Jim was getting impatient and frustrated as he made his way over to a long, dark alley stacked with crates.

Glancing down the alley, he could see the boxes stacked along the wall, jutting out into the alley on one side with a dumpster on the other side. Stepping closer, he grimaced at the smell emanating from the alley as he steeled himself to enter. Blair, beside him, could also smell the human waste and refuse and wrinkled his nose as he told Jim to dial down his sense of smell.

Jim recognizing the scent of decay did just that, and then walked over to the dumpster a few feet from the entrance, sentinel eyes noticing something strange near the bottom even in the dimly lit alley. Crouching down, he looked at scratches along the bottom of the dumpster. The scratches didn't look like the usual dents a dumpster would get but rather like claw marks stretching across a wide expanse. Frowning, he slid a finger along the bottom, feeling the deep gouges, absently noting the width and deciding these were made by something with very large claws. Still crouched down he angled around to examine the sides of the dumpster a sixth sense tingling and raising the hairs at the back of his neck. All senses on alert, he began a careful examination of the ground and wall near the dumpster.

Blair, seeing Jim looking over the dumpster, moved just passed him to glance around the alley. Using his flashlight to create a circle of light along the ground to ensure he didn't fall, he moved close to the crates and peered at the back end of the alley. Swinging the flashlight in a wide arc, his eyes followed the beam of light along the line of boxes and he realized there was a space back there. Moving, not so much closer to the back as at a different angle, he swung the flashlight sure he had seen some movement there as the scent of decay increased and he placed a hand to his nose as he continued peering into the back.

The flashlight moved along the back wall and then flashed across the face of his partner who stood at the back by the crates. Wondering how Jim had gotten passed him without his hearing or seeing him move, Blair looked over the detective and then quickly lowered the beam to the ground not to blind his partner. "Jim did you find anything back there?" he asked softly, taking a step forward.

"Some strange scratches, Chief," Blair heard Jim's voice behind him and he spun in confusion, his flashlight beam bouncing off of Jim standing by the dumpster. The sentinel immediately put a hand up to protect his eyes from the sudden blinding light, blinking. Turning, Blair looked back down the alley his flashlight swinging wildly back in that direction but Jim wasn't there. Flashing the beam along the wall and shaking his head in confusion, he again noted movement but it wasn't Jim that stepped into the light; it was Naomi.

"Naomi what are you doing here?" he asked in concern as his mother stepped away from the crates and started down the alley, walking slowly.

"Hello Sweetie, I thought I could come and be part of your work again. You remember I helped you before with that car jacking case."

"Mom, you shouldn't be here, it's dangerous and how did you find us?"

"Blair," Jim moved beside him and grabbed the back of his jacket yanking him back and away from the approaching figure as he reached for the knapsack. "That's not your mother," he said his voice sounding strained as he watched the approaching figure, a shaking hand opening the knapsack.

"Of course it is, Jim. You know Naomi, she finds her way into things."

"Blair, it's not her," he repeated, in a growl, and Blair glanced at his partner and realized Jim was pulling out the crossbow, his eyes on his target.

"Jim you can't," he demanded, turning to stop his partner. "That's my Mom," Blair cried out grabbing for the crossbow, his flashlight swinging around wildly as Naomi neared.

"Sandburg, it's not Naomi," Jim stated through clenched teeth as he used the arm not holding the crossbow to shove Blair back, hard, to get him out of the reach of the approaching figure. The push was powerful, designed to drop an opponent and Blair landed on the ground behind Jim with a gasp, the flashlight falling from his hand, as Naomi turned from Blair towards Jim, a hand reaching out for him. Even as Blair scrambled back up, preparing to tackle Jim and protect his mother, Jim, in one smooth movement, swung the crossbow up, aiming and firing as the thing reached out, a hand landing on Jim's shoulder.

"NO," Blair screamed, gaining his feet and trying to reach Naomi as the arrow met its mark but dropping the crossbow, Jim spun and grabbed his partner, pulling him close and holding tight as Naomi staggered back and fell.

"It's not her, Chief," he whispered over and over in a rasped voice, leaning against Blair.

Blair looked down at the figure on that ground, horrified that his best friend had just killed his mother and pulled himself free of Jim's grasp, pushing the sentinel away. Stepping forward, as the flashlight on the ground behind him illuminated the dark shape stretched out on the ground, he realized it no longer bore any resemblance to his mother. In the flashlight beam, Blair could see large feet with claws, and dark fur. He couldn't see the face in the dark alley and stepped back to get the flashlight, his eyes never leaving the figure. "Jim," he whispered softly, his voice shaking as he realized how close they had both come to the Rakshasa. "Is it dead?"

Before Jim could answer, the creature began to dissolve, falling in on itself, acrid smoke rising into the air as it melted into the ground. Holding his nose against the intense stench of decay, Jim nodded as the dissolving accelerated and within moments nothing was left on the ground, and a gust of wind swept down the alley, blowing the scent of decay and corruption away.

"Man," Blair whispered as Jim rested a hand against the dumpster, "that thing, it made me think it was you and then Naomi." As Blair said this he turned to Jim, his eyes widening as he looked at Jim's shoulder. "Jim," he was at the sentinel's side in a flash, "Your Bleeding."

Using his flashlight, Blair could see Jim's jacket and shirt were shredded and wet, blood spreading across the front of his chest. Immediately, he pulled off his own jacket and pushed it against the wound as he reached for Jim's pocket to grab his cellphone and call for help. "It's okay, Chief. I don't need an ambulance. It needs a few stitches, that's all. It caught my shoulder as I fired."

Not wanting to consider how close that thing had come to Jim and why it had gotten that close, Blair shook his head. "The truck is a couple of blocks away and you can't walk there. We're going to have to get an ambulance."

Jim sighed, "Too many questions to answer if we do. I'll wait at the end of the alley. Go get the truck." Blair considered this still pressing his jacket to Jim's shoulder and then nodded, pulling Jim's good arm up to hold the jacket in place.

"I'll be right back," he agreed. "Just stay right here." With that Blair ran out of the alley and down the street. Bringing the truck back a few minutes later, he helped Jim in and then grabbed the knapsack and crossbow tossing them onto the floor of the backseat as he headed for Cascade General. Once there, as Jim was taken into the emergency room, he called Simon.

It was 2:00 am and a groggy Simon Banks answered the phone in a snarl that would have impressed even Jim, but when Simon realized it was Blair calling, he came immediately alert and was at Cascade General forty five minutes later. He listened to Blair's whispered report as Jim was stitched up, given a prescription for antibiotics, and pain killers and sent on his way.

Following Jim and Blair home in case Blair needed help getting Jim settled, he wondered how they would put a spin on this story while setting the city at ease. Finally, deciding to keep the story as close to the truth as possible, he decided he would state that a Cascade Officer shot a large predatory animal and it was confirmed that this animal had been stalking the streets of Cascade. The animal's carcass had been shipped to a lab for evaluation. That would be the only comments made by the PD. Knowing Jim and Blair would go along with the official line, he made his way to work and called the Commissioner.

Epilogue

Captain Simon Banks of Major Crimes, Commissioner of Police, Jack Gordon, and Deputy Commissioner, Steve Green sat together in Simon Banks' office staring at one another. It was very early, 6:00 am and the three men were sipping coffee, each lost in their own thoughts, and dreading the conversation that was to follow. Simon had filled the two men in on the evening's events, ending with Jim's visit to the hospital.

Finally, putting down his cup, Chief Gordon looked at the other men, his face stern. "We cannot tell the city that a demon was running around and that a sentinel and his guide hunted it down and killed it." Green and Banks winced at the statement, but both nodded their agreement.

Simon had never told Jim and Blair that Gordon and Green knew Jim was a sentinel and Blair his guide, though after this case he was pretty sure the detective and observer would guess Gordon and Green knew something. Simon had decided sharing Jim's secret with the top brass was a necessity if he wanted to ensure that Blair's three month ride along was renewed continuously and had discussed the issue in private with Gordon and Green right after the Lash affair. Convincing the two most senior cops that Jim had enhanced senses had been difficult but eventually they had accepted the truth and renewing Blair's credentials had become much easier. Now, looking over at Gordon, Simon sighed. "Jim and Blair will keep quiet," he assured the Commissioner. "And if anyone says anything, Jim can honestly say he took down the animal. His getting clawed lends credence to the statement. And Dan Wolf can be trusted. His 'official' autopsy report does not state anything about an unknown species."

Gordon nodded wearily. "Close the file. I'll have a press release ready in an hour." He rose signaling the end of the meeting and Green stood as well. "Tell Ellison and Sandburg-," he paused. He had been about to say, "to keep their mouths shut," but instead he glanced at Simon and gave a small, almost rueful, smile. "Tell them good job and that I'm glad they work for our city."

Simon nodded as he walked the Commissioner to the door and leaned against it wearily. Jim and Blair had done a good job, Dan Wolf as well. Cascade was safe from this threat and Simon looked forward to going back to dealing with regular criminals.


End file.
